


Triptych

by RS_Games



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-21 18:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12462957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RS_Games/pseuds/RS_Games
Summary: R/S Games 2017 - Day 21 - Team RemusThree quick looks at Remus finding comfort.(bylittlemo)





	Triptych

**Author's Note:**

> **Team:** Remus  
>  **Title:** Triptych  
>  **Rating:** G  
>  **Warnings:** None  
>  **Genres:** fluff, hurt/comfort  
>  **Word Count:** 1800  
>  **Summary:** Three quick looks at Remus finding comfort.  
>  **Notes:** I didn't have as much chance to work on this as I had hoped. I was trying to bring out the things that comfort Remus and make him ready to face the struggles in his life.  
>  **Prompt:** #59 - song: ["Ready For The Storm" by Dougie MacLean](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNAzkEioI_s) (link to YouTube video)

Remus finds it embarrassing, how sentimental he gets in the last few weeks of term. While the rest of Hogwarts relishes the general lack of writing in lessons and the tendency of teachers to turn a blind eye on neglected homework, Remus completes every assignment to the letter. Working allows him to remain in denial. He retreats to the library to avoid the frenzy of packing and the air of anticipation; he distances himself from the students who lounge by the lake in clusters, sunning themselves as best they can under the Scottish sky. That kind of behaviour would give him too much time to think about leaving.

It isn't that he doesn't miss his home and his parents. He just can't endure the change from his school self to his home self. At Hogwarts, he is a marauder. He belongs. He has friends who thrill him and in whose company he can laugh freely. At home he is an only child, invalided, cosseted and cared for too excess. Worse still, he is a burden, with each full moon becoming problem his parents have to bear alone. Every September they wave him off at Kings Cross, watching him go with eyes purpled by lack of sleep. He can never detect relief on their faces but guesses it must be there.

There are a few days of term left - a ballast between the present moment and the arrival of the school train. He sits in a corner of the library, at a desk overlooking the lake. A potions book is open before him but rather than reading the words he has been trying to guess at the origins of the different stains in the margin. He stomach churns, a reminder the full moon is approaching.

Without warning, a hand comes down on his shoulder.

Sirius leans over him. His hair is tousled and his tie loose, reflecting the spirit of summer abandon than Remus is trying to avoid. He is, and has always been, the most beautiful boy in the school (a thought that occurs to Remus regularly). Now, at sixteen, Remus has got an iron grip on himself. He doesn't jump or flush when Sirius approaches, and he resists the temptation to reach his hand into Sirius's hair.

"Hey Mooney, came to see how you were doing."

This is a loaded question, as they both know Remus has one more transformation before term is up. More than that, Sirius understands his end of term feelings. Sirius has spent his holidays at the Potters and knows what it is like to be reluctant to return home. They both find it hard to part from Hogwarts but Sirius is better with getting on with things.

Remus sighs and Sirius gives his shoulder a squeeze. "If you want, I can smuggle you a cup of tea past Madam Pince, " he offers.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not really doing anything."

"In that case, you should come down to the lake. James is trying to entice the squid out and he's determined to do it before the holidays."

"Since when does the squid come out for people? Has anyone ever seen it?"

"I bet if Dumbledore asked nicely it would come out - he's a persuasive guy." Though there is a smile on his lips, Sirius is uncertain. Remus knows he is tense and guesses Sirius can feel. He wishes he could explain that he is trying to work out is what will make the hurt worse - if being with his friends will be salt in his open wounds, or if isolating himself for the next few days will make the holidays easier to bear.

"You don't have to do anything strenuous," Sirius encourages, dropping his voice. "If you wanted to rest before the _y'know_ , you could just lie in the grass or something."  

Remus snorts. "You've become such a wholesome influence. _Remus, have a cup of tea, Remus come and get some fresh air_. You should get a wheelchair and I should get a blanket for my knees, do the thing properly."

"Forgive me for caring," Sirius laughs.

The reply is throwaway but Remus feels his throat tighten. That the marauders care about him never fails to startle him. He cannot resist the pull of the group, be it in his best interests or not. He wants to be with them always; he wants to lose himself in conversation with James over some technical magical issues, or have Peter crack them all up with a daft joke or Sirius suggest doing something stupid for the hell of it.

"I'll come outside now."

Sirius hisses a 'yes' of victory, relinquishing the shoulder he had been bearing down upon. Remus gathers his things, trying to smother down the feeling of joy that Sirius has bothered to come and drag him out of the library. After all this time, it sets his heart fluttering with helpless feeling.

Sirius doesn't wait, so Remus has to hurry after him. He jogs out of the library as silently and sedately as he can, wary in case Madam Pince is watching (she is the member of staff most likely to be unsoftened by the end of term frivolity). Near her desk, a stack of books sit waiting to be returned, signalling the end of the year. He wishes he could see such a clear sign in himself, something marking an end of his hesitancy and an end to painful endings themselves.

 

-x-

 

_Two days_

There is pain pent up in Remus's limbs. He smells himself all over but he is not hurt, not anywhere he can find, so he rubs himself against a tree and ploughs through undergrowth towards the forest. Something inside him is telling him he has to go, that more hurt is on the way. He tries to outrun the feeling but can't.

Remus emerges into a clearing and find the wrong smelling animals. It is a strange pack, made up a deer, wolf and rat, all more still than any other creature he has come across. He notices them now and then, but there is never a trace of aggression from them, so he lets them be. Occasionally wolf play fights with him, biting him at the throat and dragging him down. Afterwards, it always whines and flattens its ears back to show it knows the order of things.

The wolf there watching him tonight.

Remus feels worse for seeing them, knows they are bound up in the hurt he is feeling. He growls at them but they do not stir, the deer only turning its head to survey him from a different angle.

Discomfited still, Remus makes another attempt to forget by throwing himself into the undergrowth and its myriad of sensations. He dives at the sound of scurrying feet but finds the reward barely worth the effort - his jaws clamp around a mouse and the metallic warmth of blood fills his mouth. He shakes his head until the thing goes still and lopes back to where the wrong smelling animals are gathered. He drops the mouse before them. The wolf sniffs but does not bite.

Remus is affronted.

He tilts back his head, clearing his throat for a howl and letting his hurt come out in the sound. He senses the world recoiling, the lives around him going still and the wind dropping. This is how it should be. Then the moon swims before him in the sky. It puts fear in him, being so white and sightless yet watching him for sure. He howls again, fierce against at the white eye enemy and makes for the secure darkness between the trees. He is going to be taken from here, he feels it deep down. His muscles strain to carry him faster and he navigates by scent, aiming at the mossy damp heart of the forest.

Though Remus runs fast, he finds he is not alone. The wrong smelling animals follow him, the deer throwing its limbs in graceful strides and the little wolf sprinting to keep up. The rodent climbs its way onto the deer's back, its nose inquisitive in the air. Remus almost overbalances when the little wolf knocks into his side; it carries the mouse between its teeth, its head tilted and inviting him to play. Remus snaps at the mouse, yet lets the little wolf tip it out of his reach. The fear in him recedes; he is part of the strange pack and its temporary circle of safety.

 

-x-

 

_Twenty years_

The wolfsbane has sharpened Remus's mind to a point. He thoughts are clear and his senses are quick. He can smell the full depths of damp and age in the scullery in Grimauld Place. Molly Weasley thought she was making headway, clearing the house out and making it habitable. With his wolfish senses, Remus can tell otherwise. The house is too old for change and too ingrained with its violent past.

He is spending the night curled on sacks, down out of the way of the Order. Molly was horrified when she was informed how things would be and tried to make him take down blankets, all the while not quite meeting his eye. Remus imagines the Order upstairs, tense and conscious of the monster they are keeping below. He looks over his fur and claws with muted horror. He is still scared of the body he half inhabits.

To his surprise, the door to the scullery opens and light flushes out the gloom.

"Remus?"

Sirius is calling to him. Remus can hear every tremor and texture of his voice, can practically trace it back to the quavering of the cords in his throat. He can tell Sirius is tentative but not scared. There is no sharp tang of adrenaline fuelled sweat on him and no racing heartbeat for Remus can detect. All the times they have run together under the moon means Sirius knows his changed self better than he does himself.

"I came to see if you wanted company."

Sirius edges down the steps and into the scullery. Remus uncurls himself a little, whines as gently as he can, trying to say without words that there is nothing he would like better. He is thankful Sirius can read this canine language. More than that, he is grimly appreciates the fact that Sirius understands what it is be trapped and alone. There has been a divide between them since Sirius came back Azkaban, and it is not something Remus knows how to fix. Instead, he is just grateful Sirius is able to overlook it long enough to lie by his side.

Without waiting for further invitation, Sirius drops down the final few steps and is changes into Padfoot. He settles close Remus, with head between his paws and his tail thumping. From past experience, Remus knows this is how things will be until the moon is gone.

All he can think is _thank god_.


End file.
